Upon A Midnight Clear
by YeuxBrilliants
Summary: Jack's feeling nostalgic on his first Christmas away from New York City. Oneshot. A companion piece to A Work in Progress.


**Hello everyone, Merry Christmas!**

**This is a little oneshot about Jack that takes place after my story A Work in Progress. If you haven't read it, this one may not make much sense to you, as there are plenty of allusions to original characters and events from AWiP. I hope you choose to read my story and leave me some reviews. I always appreciate the feedback. Thank you, I hope you enjoy it!**

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Jack pulled the flannel blanket tighter around his shoulders and took a deep drag from his smoldering cigarette. He tilted his head up to face the glittering winter sky. One million brilliant stars were smiling down on him. A hint of his own trademark smile appeared faintly on his lips. That was the one thing he'd never be able to get used to out here- the breathtaking beauty of the night sky. He'd dreamed of what it would look like, but never in all his dreaming imagined it to be as stunning as it truly was. He was reminded of Sarah for a moment, and the first morning he spent having breakfast on her roof.

"It's the same sky," she had laughed as he carried on.

_But it isn't. Not even close, Sarah. _

His breath clouded in front of his mouth as he exhaled, but it was hardly cold by his standards. Under his blanket he was only wearing his regular work shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He had to suppress a laugh when the other men complained about the cool temperatures. Too many hard New York winters had prepared him for the worst.

It's probably snowing in New York, he realized. There was probably frost collecting on the lodging house windows. The sidewalks were likely covered in a layer of icy slush, making it virtually impossible for any newsie to keep his feet dry. And less hours of daylight meant less opportunity to sell. Tumbler didn't have any gloves when he'd left. Hopefully Skits or Marie had taken care of that. In Marie's letters she assured him that everyone was doing well, but it didn't prevent his mind from bubbling over with worry for his friends from time to time. He heard the sound of the door open behind him. The music from where men had gathered in Jeremiah's was wafting out on the cool air. Danny Dempsey, an Irishman, was teaching the others the words to "I'll Tell Me Ma." Jack couldn't help but hum along; his father had always jokingly called his mother the Belle of Belfast.

"Hey son, how're you doin?" Jam appeared next to where Jack had perched on the front porch.

"Good, sir, real good."

"Not enjoying my party? My feelings are hurt, Slicker."

The boys on the ranch had quickly taken to referring to Jack as the City Slicker. It was all in good fun, of course. He had really taken to ranch life in the last two months-he was a quick learner and Jam and the others were excellent teachers. Their kindness had made the transition much easier than he imagined. The hours he spent practicing his lasso and riding back in Manhattan had really come in handy.

"No, I am. I just felt like a few minutes to m'eself."

"You miss Marie?"

Jack took another drag from his cigarette and nodded sullenly. She wrote as often as she could. He had enough letters to fill the two cigar boxes he stored under his cot in the bunkhouse. The men that didn't call his Slicker usually called him Romeo, because most of his free time was spent writing back to Marie. The books along with the small canvas she'd sent had arrived a day or so ago at the post office. The painting was a busy street scene not far from the circulation center.

_For my dearest Jack, A little piece of New York when you need it_, she had scrawled on the back of the frame. He'd found a beautiful necklace made by the metalsmith in town, an ornate silver pendant encrusted with small turquoise and onyx stones. He'd also tucked a few bluebonnets in the box for her, along with a note reassuring her that he hadn't spent too much (as he knew she would protest) and that he hoped she was enjoying the small break from work, as the gallery would be closed for the week. She had begun working on her series for her show in April but refused to tell him the topic of her work. _It's a surprise,_ she insisted teasingly, _You'll have to wait til you're here to see it._

Jack had already begun diligently saving his wages for the train ticket to come see her exhibition. He'd spent a good deal on the gifts he'd purchased when he went into town earlier in the week, along with the cost of postage to send the parcels to Manhattan.

"It still doesn't feel right that she's up in New York without me… Or that I'm down here without her. I can't believe how much I miss her."

"She's a good girl."

"She's an amazing girl…" he let his voice trail off.

"It ain't just her, though?" Jack turned to face Marie's uncle. His kind brown eyes sparkled with curiosity in a way that reminded him immensely of her, and he felt his heart tug.

Jack shook his head slowly. Jam laid his hand firmly on his shoulder.

"You miss home?"

Jack frowned.

"Yeah, I actually do… Never thought that day would come."

"What was Christmas like in New York?"

"Frickin' cold! A lot colder than this. Most of the newsies, they ain't got nobody else. We never had much money, but we always tried to celebrate the best we could, for the little ones, you know. Kloppman, the man who ran the lodging house, he'd always decorate. Garland on the staircase, and a little stocking for each of us with a chocolate inside. Usually us older boys pooled our money to get a few toys for the younger kids to share. We had to sell Christmas day, but we all had that piece of chocolate to come home to that night, and the convent down the street hosted a Christmas dinner that was always good eatin'…"

"You made the most of it. It sounds nice."

"Not anything like this party. I've never even been to a real Christmas party before. And I ain't had a Christmas tree since my Ma was alive. This is so nice, and I'm thankful for you to include me-"

"But you miss your friends tonight."

"I sure do."

"I understand. Those boys were your family. I miss my family tonight, too. My parents are back home with everyone, Marie's making a name for herself in Manhattan and her parents are up in Kansas. I think it's really easy to feel lonely this time of year."

"I just wonder how they're doing. I don't feel right being out here, being warm and well fed and enjoying myself knowing that my newsies are probably cold and half starved."

"You sent them those mittens and the toys you bought in town, and I know you send part of your pay to that Kloppman gentleman. Jack, you're doing what you can. I know it's not right for your friends to go without, but it's not wrong for you to be successful. You're one of the hardest working guys I've met out here. I wish all my men tried as hard as you. You deserve to be well fed, and have a warm bed to call your own. You deserve this too,"

Jam pulled a small box out of his pocket and handed it to Jack.

Jack carefully untied the ribbon and opened it. A silver belt buckle was nestled inside. The words "City Slicker" were pressed into the metal, and a single star was emblazoned in the middle. Jack's jaw dropped in amazement.

"Mr. LaRoux, this is too nice, I can't accept it," he stammered finally.

"Marshall Ennis did the metalwork for me, it was a good deal. And you're a real Texan cowboy now, you need a nice belt buckle like a real Texan wears. Please accept it, you worked hard for it. And dammit, call me Jam. No more of that Mister and Sir nonsense."

"Okay, okay," Jack laughed.

Jam stood suddenly, stretching his long legs.

"I gotta go back to my party. Danny's probably polished off that bottle of bourbon I left on the table. You gonna be alright out here, kid?"

Jack turned his gaze back up to the stars, twinkling clearly and perfectly.

"Yeah, I am. Merry Christmas, Jam."

"Merry Christmas, Slicker."


End file.
